Rusty Halo
by emma.smith05
Summary: A short history of Jasper


**Disclaimer: Twilight isn't mine.**

**Author's Note: I was listening to this song ('Rusty Halo' by The Script) and I began to write this. It **_**was**_** going to be an original story, but I found myself writing this about a vampire and then it seemed to write itself into a very short history of Jasper. Tell me what you think!**

**Rusty Halo**

I'm dying for a new soul. My life since I was changed has been more than questionable, and I can't pay my dues. I have been doing the wrong thing at the wrong time my entire life. I've committed so many sins, my soul is in need of polishing, for the lustre has dulled. I've let my soul degenerate, my halo rust into non-existence.

So here I am. At the gates of a new dawn, a regeneration. My life is going to change. I won't sin. I won't let my unnatural hunger soil any other part of my life. I shall be pure and whole and good, no matter how hard it is to fight against my addiction, the insatiable thirst that has driven me since I began my monstrous life.

For I truly was a monster. I had given myself over to the sating of the burn in my throat. And violence. That was a given in my old life. The never-ending wars of the never-ending monsters. No wonder the mortals were afraid of such creatures that night had created. No wonder they feared us for our abnormal ways. No wonder we now had to live in secrecy or face the wrath of our rulers.

I am dwelling on my past. Dwelling is not an option. Ever since escaping from the destructive lifestyle I had led, I made this decision. I had sworn never to kill again. But the burn. The never-ending burn. The ceaseless fire that raged within me, scorching my throat. It had to be quenched, at any cost, no price too high. If only killing could do that, why should I suffer? So, each time I break each new resolution for change. Self-control had never been a quality of mine. Not since that night.

And each time I hunt, I remember. I remember life before I was transformed and twisted into a shallow representation of what used to be right and good within me. I live vicariously as their repressed instinct warns them of the danger they are so unwilling to acknowledge, as they turn and see my unnatural beauty, as they watch me disappear with the speed of my leap, as they hurt as I drain their bodies, as they remember the loved ones I am removing them from. Then, I dispose of the body I am so loathe to see any more. Then I say "no more." But I never adhere to those intentions as I pave my road to hell.

I am very thirsty now. I know my eyes will be black, black as pitch or onyx or coal. Black as my soul has become. I wrench my thoughts away from the taste of the red blood I wanted to sate the appetite that had grown in the days I had not hunted. It has begun to rain and I have to enter a warm room with the undoubtedly strong aroma of their unconscious, irresistable fragrance.

I enter a dark room, although the light levels are no trouble for me. I walk to the bar, to mingle, to look inconspicuous. That is all-important in my life of sin and degradation, to not be found. Then I catch a fragrance. Not human. I look around the room and her golden eye's light up in recognition as they beheld me.

The girl - for girl she is - dances towards me. I do not know her and all my life's previous knowledge has shown me was a readying for a fight. Her emotions are different though - it is a happy aura, one of a fulfilled hope or wish come true. Her graceful walk stops as she reaches me. I note her small stature, and short black hair as she looks up at me, smiling.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," she says in her lilting, musical voice, a voice not worthy to be bestowed upon my malformed nature. Nevertheless, my Southern manners resurfaced, having been instilled rigorously into me as a young child.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I reply, while I struggle to find a reason why this stranger has been waiting for me. A monster.

She puts out her hand, her emotions drifting through the haze of confusion that has surrounded me. I take her hand. I realise I am feeling hope. A girl who instills me with hope, an emotion not known to me for nearly one-hundred years, she has to be one worth knowing, one who will support me through my trials. Together, we leave.

In that moment, I truly began to redeem myself. For my soul is no longer mine - it is hers and she deserves better. So I begin to polish my soul and shine my rusty halo as I start another new chapter in my existence.

**Author's Note: So, there you go. Like I said, very short, but I'd like to know what you think. Thank you!**


End file.
